A person sits by a window and listens to rain, imagining that each tap is a message meant just for them. The speaker treats the weather like a gossiping messenger, bringing news of love and death, heartbreak and redemption, hope and murder. These are the big subjects of novels and songs, and the speaker hears them all in something as small as raindrops on glass.
Then the thunder arrives and rattles the windows. The tone shifts. The playful, almost cozy daydream breaks, and the short lines "And for a second. / I am alone" land with a quiet jolt. The speaker seems to realize that the "voices" were imagined, and that the room is empty. The mood is dreamy and reflective at first, then suddenly lonely. The poem suggests that we fill silence with stories, and that a sharp sound can strip them away.